


Run, Outlaw, Run

by Aerine



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Angst, F/M, I did this in an hour this is probably awful, Spoilers, more angst you're welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 03:41:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17195828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerine/pseuds/Aerine
Summary: "and I run... because that's all I can do."





	Run, Outlaw, Run

**Author's Note:**

> ARTHUR MORGAN? DYING? BETTER WRITE THIS DOWN

As I lie there with a desire to catch my breath, the strands of grass beside my head sway with the sound breeze of a new dawn. With the rise and fall of my chest, a trembling puff of fog escapes past my lips, and my heart pleads for me to give in. The sharp intake of air elicits a wheeze, for I can no longer waste my energy without there being consequences; my heart must be begging,  _insisting_ , because its actions had already lost a battle against a soul exhausted of running. Regardless of the patches of unsettling hues forming upon my skin, the metallic scent trailing past my eyelashes and painting my elbows and knees, the consequences of it all willed my feet against the soil. A future where I abandon the home I’ve helped built, where it crashes and burns behind me and I refuse to look … I stand, albeit shaken.

Up there might be my worst nightmare, a climb up a fortress of boulders and sharp edges leading to nothingness, except I can’t help but will myself forward in hopes of something. I spare a glance over my shoulder at my beloved companion, wheezing out her cries for help and fortune, whimpering softly as she becomes lost with the sound of the wind. Blood coats the mare’s fur, crimson glistening hues of a dull orange upon the rising sun. Perhaps it’s not her sounds of strife, but mine, for I choke out an apology before I leave the friend I had known would never leave me behind. Run, that’s all I can do now, because running means you’re that much closer to your goal. Running means one less life lost, a nick upon their skin from a bullet rather than having it lodged in their brain.

My lips tremble with lust for him as they long for his lips to align with theirs again, fitting perfectly at an angle so sinful yet mind bending. There exists a mark upon my palms at my nails imprinting themselves into the lines of my skin, curves of anticipation and apprehension forming. If I can see him one last time, just marvel at the smile stretching at his cheeks and the imperfections on his face, I will no longer ask for more. Arthur Morgan, despite all odds, has to live, selfishly, so we can pretend our world we lived in discomfort wasn’t swept from us underneath our feet. “He has to,” I murmur, yet I had been ignoring the odds stacked against him from the moment I started running.

Running, that’s all I am doing, except any sane man would turn and beg me to allow life to exist at its own pace. Living with a band of outlaws never allowed me that sanctuary; there was never a domestic life to be lived with the same  _damn_ routine or the same  _damn_  people. As beautiful as one could imagine, I would trail my fingertips along sturdy wood built into a home only I could live in, hands brushing against a dress only I could wear. I would fall in love with a lie, held in the false security in the form of arms that were never built to hold me or love me. I despised the thought of it, yet I wanted nothing more in life than to stop time for one second… just one, so I could catch my breath. For years, my legs would crumble like my resolve, exhausted of decades playing hide and seek with the law, and another jaded outlaw would wrap their hands around my arm and pull me up to try again.

The sight of an arm hanging from the edge allows the air to return to my lungs, yet it’s as if it was paired with a swift punch to the stomach. The owner of that arm lies still as the sun rises from behind the mountains, not yet a victim to the woes of time. The cotton of his shirt becomes loose from his skin at the slightest gust of wind, but my gaze never leaves his parted lips, my own producing shaky murmurs of desperation and denial. My head shakes back and forth, my face tight as Arthur’s future fades before my eyes. However, tears refuse to trail down my cheeks or part from my eyes; not even this can will a woman hardened from living in a man’s world into submission. Regardless, my skin is alight with the sun’s rays, scars and beauty marks painted with splotches of orange and yellow, but a chill travels throughout my nerves paired with a demand so selfish. If only Arthur could have followed suit.

I shield myself from the reality, and I run… because that’s all I can do.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you can :)


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